Pirate Force
by Malicious hero
Summary: FULL SUMMARY INSIDE! Collab fic! A criminal of immense repute has escaped capture by using outlawed technology to enter another universe. Unable to let him go, a group of highly trained operatives and trainees pursue him. Only to find that their prey has joined this world's "Law Enforcement". Now forced to become outlaws, will they succeed, or fall to this worlds justice?


**Hey all, Malicious is back, with a new story, this one a collab fic!**

**Each of the authors listed below submitted a character to be included in this story, and you are about to be introduced to them.**

**Hope you enjoy it!**

**Collaborative authors: Aclux, Medrick1317, and Fanreader26**

**Summary: MASS XOVER! A criminal of immense repute has escaped capture by using outlawed technology to escape to another universe. Unable to let him get away, a team of highly skilled operatives and a few trainees give chase, knowing that pursuing him means that they are unlikely to return home. Upon their arrival, they discover that he has made allies of the local "Law Enforcement". Forced into a new role as outlaws, will the team succeed in bringing him down, or be just another casualty to a new perverse form of justice? **

**Disclaimer: I don't own any franchise involved in the creation of this fic. I only own one of the OC Chracters.**

**Headings/(AN)/ "Shouts/Attack Name!"**

_Thoughts/book excerpts/ "radio and transponder snail communications."_

"Normal speech."

**Prologue 1: Meet the Boys**

_**History Excerpts from Prof. Marius Holdstein's "Birth of the Superpowers", 2176**_

_"... as such there is no denying the impact that the discovery of the first "mutant-human" in 2057, had on the impact of world history. Things that were once considered fiction; little more than figments of an author or illustrators mind, were suddenly put forward of having a very real chance of occurring. The first one in question, one Chun Daixhi, was a Chinese boy, having been born and raised in the USA since 2046. Naturally, shock rippled through both the scientific, political and military communities._

_What could this mean for humanity? Was it just another potential step in evolution? Or was it a sign for more sinister events in the future?_

_Due to human nature, it was only a matter of time for lines to be drawn, especially when the number of mutant humans began to climb, soon becoming at maximum (and this is our best estimate) a quarter of the earth's population. Others had taken advantage of their new abilities, using them commit heinous crimes, resulting in a massive body count. Hate and support groups sprang up, and countries became divided in how to fully approach the issue. Unfortunately, it was only a matter of time before war broke out, coming to existence on December 9th, 2074..._

_... 3 years into it, and yet another upheaval was made on July 7th, when the war revealed the existence of the magical world and its creatures, hidden from view of mortal men for millennia. The haters of the Mutant-humans were quick to lump the mages with their enemies, forcing the Magical citizens to flee what they thought to be safe havens for themselves..._

_... not until 4 years later, was World War 3, also referred to as the 'war of the superpowers', finally came to an end, primarily due to the efforts of the pro-power coalition military group: BlackGuard, formed in 2079. Made up of the best of the best when it came to trained soldiers, powerful mages and mutant-humans, they became the driving force behind the pro-power sides victory._

_But said victory was not without cost. The war claimed billions of lives, and the earth was left devastated by the initial use of nuclear weaponry. Not ever wanting such a war to ever occur again, Humanity finally united under one banner, forming the Earth United Republic, a year later, to try and give the planet time to heal, and to keep humanity itself safe._

_Not all were pleased with this result, as small pockets of resistance sprang up not long after the formation. Now needing a new form of peacekeeping, the republic turned BlackGuard into a new global force. Their task? Keep the peace, hunt down lawbreakers, and ensure the public safety. What was an army group quickly converted into a secret service, police force and spec ops unit all in one."_

**2094, Max Taste Diner, 30 miles west of Neo Boston.**

The diner was dimly lit, as thunder rattled the windows. Rain was pouring outside, splattering against the glass and the maxasteel exterior.

Inside, the diner was styled in a classical format, like those used in the late 20th century. As soon as you entered, you could see the counter surrounded by high stools, with several booths off to the left.

There was only one customer present at this time, sitting at a booth towards the back.

The person was a man of average height in his mid-thirties, had a weathered face, short sandy blonde hair, a goatee and bright blue eyes. From the way his eyes kept darting towards the door, it was clear that he was waiting for someone. Someone whom was running late.

Having been served a meal of poached eggs with toast, he ate slowly, not wanting to miss any potential arrival.

He was beginning to think that something had gone wrong, when the hum of the automatic doors interrupted his train of thought.

Entering the building, was a woman of middle eastern descent in her forties, with dark hair, and slight scar over her left cheek, clad in a long purple hooded coat, which obscured all other clothes from view. Noticing him, she quickly made her way over to the booth, pausing only to grab a menu from the counter. Getting a nod from the waiter, she sat, looking at the man intently.

"Report."

The man raised his eyebrows. "No hello, Gabriel?" He asked, jokingly, making sure to keep his voice down.

"This is not the time for jokes, as I understand it." The now named Gabriel growled, placing her arms on the table.

"Now please, Michael, report."

Michael's face quickly turned serious, as he sighed. "You were right, Director. We had a leak."

_Shit. _Gabriel thought, her eyes narrowing. "What was the damage?"

"The raid was a disaster. While we got a few of them, only Agents Vermouth **(Vermouth from Detective Conan)** and Wilkins survived."

"Did you at least get anything that could help track them down or our mole?"

"That we got lucky with. The mole was there, and was killed by his planters, when they realised his usefulness had run out. Other than that, we do have the locations of two more safe houses, which I have set up surveillance for."

Gabriel, while pleased the mole at least couldn't do any further damage, stared menacingly at him. "Who was it?"

"Agent Griffith." Michael snarled out. "After 4 years loyal service... this is how he repays us!"

Gabriel gaped at him in shock, her face paling in disbelief. She most certainly hadn't expected that. "You are certain?"

"As certain as I can be, Gabs." Was the tired reply, Michael taking a swig of a beer that had just been brought to him Just when you thought you knew someone...

"Just what we need..." She shook her head. "The SecBlack is going to go nuts over this."

"You don't have to tell me." Michael rolled his eyes. "He already knows. And wants us to have a new team together to replace them by next Friday."

Gabriel blinked. She'd ask how their boss had found out, but he was expected to stay on top of certain ops. And he had that feel like he always knew everything.

"Last I checked, the next academy grads aren't set for another 4 months. We don't have any reserves?"

"No." Michael shook his head, his frustration showing. "He wants us to pull members of the BlackWolves for this."

Whatever shock she had had before, it paled in comparison to the one she felt now. The BlackWolves were BlackGuards best operatives, ones saved for solo assignments. "W-what?! That would be a waste of resources!"

"And I told him you'd think that when he called me about it." Came the annoyed reply. "Unfortunately, he's set on the decision."

Gabriel face palmed.

"Off all the... blasted... fuck!" She grumbled incoherently. Bad enough her boss had snubbed her, by not even consulting her, and going down the ladder, but now they were forced to pull some of their best out of the field for a unit bound to a specific city. Not to mince words, it was a stupid move in her mind, on so many levels.

Rubbing her forehead, she calmed herself before speaking again. "Do you have anyone in mind? We have 4 spaces-"

"5. Wilkins was injured in the raid. I received word that he's opted for retirement due to his age anyway."

"5 spaces then." She amended; her frustration evident. "Is Vermouth still fit for duty? I'd rather not have to make it 6."

"Yes. She wasn't particularly close to other members of the team. So far our psychologist has said she's still fit to work."

"Well, that's something, I guess." She remarked, feeling a tad relieved at that. The less BlackWolves they pulled out, the better.

At this point, the waiter came over, asking if she had decided on what she wanted. Ordering a stack of pancakes (her comfort food) and an ExeCola, she returned her attention to the matter at hand, putting her hands under her chin in thought.

"You have any candidates in mind?"

Michael nodded, his eyes showing how much thought that had gone into this. Bending down under the table, he reached down and grasped what looked like an old briefcase. Pulling it up onto his seat, he snapped it open and pulled out a black holopad.

Turning it on, he placed it on the table so that His superior could view the files properly.

"First off, is the CO, who'll report directly to me. Although Vermouth is the lone survivor of the squad, she lacks enough experience to lead it, and is needed as the squad's undercover specialist."

Gabriel inclined her head before motioning for him to continue, while internally wondering exactly whom exactly Michael intended to pull for this.

The man in question was looking a little uneasy. "Given your relations to him, I wasn't sure you'd agree to his reassignment."

Tapping the holopads screen, a file opened up, displaying the image of a tall toned man in his early-mid-twenties, with shoulder length spiked red hair, and two bangs framing his forehead. His right eye was covered by what looked to be a black leather patch, but strangely, had nothing tying it to his face. His left eye was a striking violet, and one that showed he was not someone to cross.

Gabriel jerked for a second, her eyes widening ever so slightly. "Magnus."

"Yes. Captain Magnus Zarathos."

**New York, two days later.**

The Big apple had been extremely lucky to have survived relatively unscathed by the war. Even so, it had changed as a result. With new ways of building and new materials being discovered, that wasn't really much of a surprise. While it certainly looked new and shiny, it still thankfully managed to retain its character.

However, the character of the town wasn't really on the mind of a certain BlackGuard agent as he moved as part of a small motorcade acting as protection for the Senator of England, as part of a diplomatic meeting with her US counterpart.

Riding a Harley Davidson 2090 Magna, he pulled a right, soon turning onto W 34th St. Passing the reconstruction efforts for the Empire State, they turned left into 3rd Avenue, going along a route to the Senator's temporary residence.

After a few more turns, since they had to avoid traffic, they finally pulled to a stop, with the BlackGuard agent dismounting his bike, and moving to open the door of the main vehicle to allow the Senator to exit.

The agent, one Magnus Zarathos, was clad in a hooded red trench coat, over what appeared to be an armoured bodysuit, although it was difficult to tell what material it was made of just by looking at it. Finally, strapped to his back in an x, were what looked to be a pair of Katana like blades, each with a visible switch on the handle.

Having reached the door, he paused momentarily, scanning the surrounding area, before pulling the door open. "Ma'am, we've arrived."

"Thank you, Mr. Zarathos." Came the reply of the middle-aged senator as she exited, pulling her brown hair behind her ears as she did so. "Once again, I do apologise for this. I'm sure you had better things to do." She added sincerely, her aged British accent coming through. Stepping to the ground, she smoothed her dark blue dress, having gotten crinkled during the drive.

"I go where I'm needed." Magnus, having gotten along reasonably well with her in what brief moments they had interacted. "And making sure you're safe is no bother."

Recently, before her visit, the senator had been receiving strange messages, some creepy, and perhaps a tad threatening. While she had dismissed it as simple hate mail, her security staff and the higher ups weren't so certain. As such, for her visit, Magnus had been assigned to her protection detail, to pacify them. While her staff had initially protested the decision, they were ultimately cowed under the very persuasive arguments by the Secretary of the BlackGuard. That man was often a force in his own right.

As two more of her bodyguards approached from the hotel entrance, Magnus raised his hand to the neck of his suit, then withdrew it, as a blue shimmer could be seen emanating from his neckline. With it, the suit expanded upward, over his chin, and up his face, stopping just over his nose, and under his eyes, giving him the appearance of a ninja in an old fighting game **(Black version of Sub-Zero's MK11 mask)**.

With the mask in place, he could now access his Comms unit. Prior to the arrival, he'd organised a few of the protection detail to span out to act as spotters. As he glanced at the steps leading up to the hotel doors, he decided to check on them.

"All eyes report in."

"_Eye 1. No problems."_

_"Eye 2. All Clear."_

_"Eye 3. Check."_

_..._

_"Eye 5. Nothing unusual."_

Magnus paused. "Eye 4? Are you there?"

For a moment, he heard nothing, as the senator made her way to the bodyguards, now about 2 metres away from him.

"Eye 4! Respond!"

A small pit forming in the young mutant-humans stomach, Magnus moved closer to his charge, his eye narrowing in concern. The senator had paused and was looking back at him with an air of confusion, having heard his call despite his mask muffling his voice somewhat.

_"... Eye 4. Apologies, my Comms had a glitch. All clear."_

Magnus froze, turning around, glancing toward an old 20 story apartment building made of red bricks just left of the hotel entrance. He'd told each of them to respond a certain way, when informing him of their status, should no problems have occurred. The fact that 'Eye 4' had not only used the same phrase as the second spotter, but her delayed check in...

Wasting no time, he switched his comm to a private line. "Eye 3, I need eyes on Eye 4's lookout."

_"Yes sir."_ For a moment, an eerie silence filled the air, broken only by the faint sound of the wind and his own rapid heartbeats. Magnus tensed himself, waiting for anything; for even the slightest hint to spring into action.

...

...

_"Gun!"_

"GET DOWN!" He roared out, tackling the senator to the ground, ignoring her shocked cry as a shot rang out. Thankfully, it missed its intended target, and struck a flowerpot that had been positioned near the hotel entrance.

In that instant things went to hell in a hand basket. People whom had been walking nearby panicked, hearing the shot, and began screaming and running in all directions.

The two guards near the hotel entrance quickly snapped into action, one drawing his weapon, while the other ran forward down the steps to check on the senator.

Springing back to his feet, Magnus, passed their charge to the approaching bodyguard.

"Get her inside!" He yelled over the crowd, pointing at the doorway. Understanding his task, the guard did as he was told, barking out orders for the rest of the detail to sweep the area.

Having secured the senators safety, Magnus spun on his heel, eyes locked on the apartment building where he had tasked Eye 4 to set up. Without wasting a second, he tore off across the road, was a white glow appeared around his waist.

**Up in the building, a few seconds earlier**

"Fuck!" The young Hispanic would be assassin snarled, desperately trying to reload, after her missed shot. Another few milliseconds and that bitch would have been bleeding over the pavement!

For all her haste, she was too slow, as the protectors got her inside, just as she was lining up the next one. Damn! They'd be on guard now, making her next attempt all the more difficult. Just what she needed.

_Of course, _she groused to herself, catching glimpse of the BlackGuard hurtling towards the building she occupied, _I need to be free to make another attempt._

Withdrawing her weapon, a Maxx SL9 smart rifle, she clicked a button, the barrel receding into the main body of the weapon and the scope moving up to allow room for it, effectively reformatting it into an assault rifle. After snapping in a fresh clip, she dashed out the doorway, leaving the throat slit form of Eye 4 bleeding out on the carpet, not even bothering it a glance, her ash grey coat flapping behind her.

**Back with Magnus**

The glow around Magnus's waist died down to reveal an electric blue belt, fastened tight around his middle. As soon as it appeared, he vanished in a red blur, zipping through the doors to the apartment building at speeds near impossible to see with the naked eye.

Glancing around at a common reception area, he noted the entrance to a second set of stairs to the left, with the central staircase being next to the lift. Knowing those stairs were closer to where he'd positioned Eye 4, he tore through it, whirling up the stairway, racing past several floors in just a few seconds.

Reaching the 17th floor, he stopped at the stairway's exit, letting the belt fade away into nonexistence. Making a grasping motion with his right hand, another glow enveloped it, this time leaving behind a toxic green 4/4 magnum pistol, covered in black demonic markings.

_Let's see how far they've gone. _He grimaced, clicking off his weapons safety catch.

Just as he was about to push open the door, it was pulled away from him, as a pretty young female with tanned skin and black hair, clad in an ash grey coat with a black tank top and pants, entered his view. While most would have been stunned by her beauty, Magnus' attention was drawn to the smart rifle clutched in her left hand. She obviously wasn't expecting him to be standing there, at least not so quickly, judging from her sudden stop and wide-eyed surprised expression.

Realising in that second whom they were both facing, the assassin attempted to slam the door shut again, only for Magnus to shoulder charge into it, knocking her back.

Rolling back into a crouch, she attempted to bring her rifle to bear, but was forced to move when Magnus got his shot off first, the bullet nicking her left shoulder. Not letting up, he kept up the pressure, advancing as she retreated, trying to avoid his gunfire by staying low. She ended up by the main stairwell.

Suddenly, his firing stopped, his magnum clicking empty having exhausted its ammo. _Shit._

Seeing her chance, the assassin stepped out and let loose a burst of bullets, Magnus diving into the apartment she'd exited earlier to avoid being turned into Swiss cheese.

As she fired, she arrived at the set of stairs near the lift, upwards. Thinking her pursuer was halted in his tracks for now, she charged up them, reaching to just below her ear to activate her implanted comm unit.

"Mission failed. I need extraction now."

_"Damn! What happened?"_

"A BlackGuard. He somehow found out I'd taken out one of his spotters."

_"Description?"_

"Black suit, red hooded coat, and has one eye."

_"Searching... holy-!"_

"What?" She enquired, before a different voice spoke up, sounding stern and aggravated over the line.

_"Your extraction request is denied. We will extract once you have lost him."_

While she was talking to her ally, Magnus had recovered and left the room, taking a moment to close the dead lookout's eyes. Gritting his teeth at the loss of life, he ran, easily reaching the stairwell in record time. It was time to get serious.

Dismissing his magnum into nothingness, much like his belt, he called on something else. This time the shimmering energy enveloped his face, the suits mask receding to make room for the new headgear that was materialising. His face was now covered in an ivory white elongated skull like mask **(Reaper's Mask from Overwatch)**.

As soon as it was fully on, his body became covered in a dark writhing mass of shadows, his coat changing from a vibrant red to matte black in the process.

Up on the roof, the femme fatale had just kicked the exit door down, running toward the edge, seething at her superiors' orders as she went. Seeing the gap between the building she was on and the next, she sped up, needing to build up some momentum. While it was a smaller building, she had _nooo_ desire to fall to her death.

Her feet coming to the edge, she pushed off, sending her hurtling through the air, her hair flowing back behind her. Landing with a slight roll, she stopped dead, feeling a chill in the air. Looking back, she caught glimpse of Magnus, having gotten to the roof himself, just as she jumped.

"Dios mio..." she gasped, seeing something akin to the grim reaper sending shivers down her spine.

Surging towards her, the being leapt across the gap, his coat billowing in the wind. Not wanting to end up in a fist fight, she bolted across the rooftop, firing bursts wildly behind her. Undeterred, her pursuer continued on, landing with a small thump, his physical form dispersing into the same kind of misty energy that now shifted around him. The mask was the only recognisable thing about him. To her horror, her bullets just passed through him like a ghost.

_Click! _And what do you know, her luck just got worse.

She ejected her clip, just as the mass lunged forward at unthinkable speed, getting behind her before she had a chance to react.

_Wha-?_

In a split second, Magnus resumed his physical form, and spartan kicked her in the back, sending her sprawling, her rifle falling from her grasp. It clattered across the roof, coming to rest a few meters from her.

"Stay down!" He growled, his voice sounding raspy. As if to threaten her, he placed a hand on one of his blade hilts. "You're being brought in. Whether you're alive or dead is up to you."

The assassin didn't answer, instead flipping back to her feet, having regained her composure. "Forgive me, demonio, but I have a third option." Magnus' eyes went wide as her fists ignited into flames.

"I beat you and escape."

Not expecting his perp to be a fellow mutant, Magnus only just raised his left arm in time to block the right hook aimed at his face. The blow shocking him back to reality, he retaliated with a palm strike to her stomach.

Backing up slightly, stunned by the hit, she wasn't prepared for him to drop down, his leg sweeping out, cutting her own out from under her, the flames cutting out as she hit the floor.

Returning to his feet as she went down, Magnus was about to press the attack, when he smelt something burning. Glancing down, he froze in alarm when he noticed her earlier punch had set his jacket sleeve on fire! Desperate to put it out, he started beating at it with his other hand to try and smother it. "Oh, jeez! Hot, hot...!"

Noticing her opponent's distraction, our sniper got into a crouch and reignited her hands. She made to punch the air, only to stagger slightly. Pulling herself together, she tried again, this time successfully, her punch launching a large fireball at her foe.

Finally putting his coat out, Magnus spotted the danger, spinning to the side as it blazed past, only for it to hit an external air vent, dispersing and leaving a scorch mark behind.

Narrowing his eyes, he drew his blades, flicking a small switch on the hilts as he did so. The strange thing about them was their colours. One was crimson, the other a burnt orange, both crackling with an unknown power every so often. Unheard by either of the combatants, a low humming filled the air. Holding them with an air of experience, he pounced, both blades going behind him, held over his right shoulder.

"**Lion's Leap!**"

Seeing the BlackWolf coming at her, she rolled backward as the blades swiped over her form, but what happened next shocked her to the core. Behind her had been a maxasteel air vent, which were very durable. The blades went through it like a hot knife through butter, causing the top parts of the vent to fall sideways, clanging onto the rooftop loudly.

"You're pretty good..." Magnus complimented. "Lasting this long with Toxins venom in your bloodstream."

_Wait, what?! _What the hell did he mean by that? The only real wound she'd suffered was...

Gasping, she glanced at her left shoulder, where she'd been hit by that bullet earlier.

"I see you figured it out. That bullet had a mild toxin coated on it. Not enough to kill, but enough to slow you down a little."

Snarling, she spat at his face, her saliva bursting into flames. With a jolt he leapt back to avoid it, allowing her time to stand.

"Bastardo." Even now she was feeling a little sluggish. She had to finish this now!

Grabbing the back of his head, she slammed her knee into his gut, only for him to respond by jabbing his blade hilts into her sides, seemingly unaffected by the blow.

Then to add insult to injury, he brought his head forward into hers with a heavy smack.

Staggering back, she blinked as she tasted blood. _The fool had broken her nose!_

Dealing with the pain, seeing as they were old friends, she resettled into a fighting stance, though one with enough experience could tell she was struggling.

Shrugging in indifference, Magnus re-sheathed and turned off the power to his swords, not seeing the point of unnecessarily injuring her, as the toxin was slowly taking effect.

Taking his own stance, he took the initiative, feinting with a chop at her slightly wounded shoulder, only to be really going for her chin via an uppercut with his other hand. Not seeing through it, she did end up seeing stars for a second. Retaliating with a strike of her own, she aimed a spin kick at his side, but hit his upper leg instead, and from the looks of things didn't hurt that much either.

Desperation began to fill her, as she started punching at him with reckless abandon, only for him to grab onto her arm.

"Light's out!" With a yell he turned around, pulling her over his shoulder, judo flipping his opponent onto her back. Winded, all she saw was a foot coming before darkness claimed her.

His skull mask fading away, and with his coat colour reverting back, Magnus disengaged the suits mask as well, exposing his face to the open air. Taking a few slow breaths to calm himself, he started patting the woman's jacket, trying to find a hint at her identity. After a few moments, he pulled out a few e-passports, each with a different name. There would be no telling if any of them were her real one. Also was a wad of cash, and a locked holophone. The BlackGuard tech experts would probably have a better time with it than him. _Marie could have done it..._

He shook off his melancholy thoughts, as an idea struck him. Reaching to his right wrist, he tapped a micro switch to disengage the suit part covering his hand, the nano-tech suit complying. Lowering himself down next to her, her grabbed the left side of the woman's face. For a second, nothing happened, then a familiar white glow appeared under the appendage, the same glow that had signified his magnum, belt and skull masks appearance. At the same time, some rather odd white vein like patterns spread across the face of the unconscious assassin. A few seconds later, the marks and the glow died down, and Magnus pulled his hand away.

"Wonder what I'll get this time?" He mused to himself, concentrating as his hand lit up again, a new item forming in his grasp. When the light died, he blinked when he saw a crossbow in his grip, a bolt loaded in place. "Huh. Wasn't expecting this shape."

Experimentally aiming it at an imaginary target, blinking as the head of the bolt caught fire. "Now that's interesting. Guess I'll have to add that to my regimen." Shrugging to himself, he let the weapon disappear.

_"Now that was certainly interesting, Captain Zarathos." _An oily condescending voice rang out.

Magnus whipped his head around, scanning the area. Where did that-?

_"You won't find me here. Look under her right ear."_

Blinking in confusion, he glanced down at his fallen enemy. Lifting up the earlobe, he found a small comm chip embedded there.

_"Ahhh, there you are. I must say, your mutation is a rather odd one. I can see why BlackGuard had it classified."_

"Who is this? How long have you been watching?" Magnus barked out gruffly.

_"Long enough. But where I my manners? My name is Dr. J. Naruud. Perhaps you have heard of me?"_

Magnus' lone eye narrowed, full of distaste. "I wish I hadn't."

_"Now, now, let's not start a fight. I admit that some of my past experiments weren't for the faint of heart, but you can't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs, yes?"_

"You don't make omelettes. You'd throw the eggs into a nuclear reactor, then feed them to someone to observe the effects. Then kill the test subject if the effects weren't interesting enough."

_"Been there, done that. And guilty~."_

Magnus was growling internally, but forced himself to stay calm. "This assassination attempt you're doing?"

_"Mine? Perish the thought! No, I could care less about just another senator. I only came on board when I heard you were a part of the protection detail."_

Magnus shuddered in disgust, at someone with his... credentials taking an interest in him. "Why? I'm hardly that special."

_"Ah, but most mutant BlackGuards powers aren't classified by their head council. Well, when someone tells me that, I just got curious. Was that so wrong~?" _The doctor responded, his tone becoming a little childish at the end, with a hint of sadism.

Magnus would have replied, but he got cut off before he got the chance.

_"Well, this was a nice conversation, but I must be going. We'll talk again, I'm sure. Ciao!"_

The chip let out a spark, before it caught alight, melting the chip to nothingness, and leaving a small burn mark on the assassin's head where it used to be.

Magnus stood up, looking around, his unease plain to see, as sirens signalling the arrival of BlackGuard LEO's back at the hotel.

**Two hours later.**

Magnus still couldn't get that conversation out of his head. How had that madman learnt that he was part of the Senator's protection? He'd only been added a couple days earlier. Not a lot of time for the 'good' doctor to discover his presence there.

And now he knew something about his powers. Thankfully the hired gun was now resting in a cell. He doubted he'd be seeing her for a looong time.

He was currently standing inside a rather luxurious hotel room, one paid for him by his charge, as thanks for his saving her life, despite him telling her that wasn't necessary. He eventually caved, but on the condition that his room be next door to hers should someone else try their luck. While he'd stopped one assassination attempt, there was still the potential for another.

Sighing, he pulled off his jacket, and glanced down at his suit, making a mental note to find out who designed it and give them his compliments. It was more comfortable, and offered better protection. Plus, that nanotech repair protocol was utter genius!

"You've had a busy day."

Magnus tensed, but relaxed upon recognising the voice. The earlier incident had left him a little on edge. Turning around, he came face to face with Gabriel, whom smiled at her former student in pride.

"You could say that. Honestly, I wasn't expecting you here over this, director."

At this, Gabriel seemed to wilt slightly, as if upset over something, but steeled her expression moments later.

"And you'd be right, that isn't why I'm here."

This raised some confusion from the agent, causing a raised eyebrow and an inquisitive look to appear on his face. Seeing it, Gabriel began to explain.

"There's something else we need to talk about."

**Back at the diner, two days previously.**

As her shock faded to the dustbin of the past, Gabriel reached over and closed the file.

"And I suppose you have a good reason for pulling him in for this?"

"Two major ones. First, his record speaks for itself, and has earned himself a great deal of respect from his comrades. Let's face it, the only reason he doesn't have a higher rank, is due to some of the higher ups trying to keep his ability under wraps." Michael responded crisply, taking a moment to observe his superior. "Have you managed to make any headway there?"

The only visible reaction shown was a twitch in her eyebrows, which Michael obviously took as a negative. "Shame. After he put Zaxion away, he should have been."

"... And the second?" Came her uncertain enquiry. And Michael didn't blame her, considering that she had a hand in training the agent in question. While she may have possessed a small bias towards him, Michael was certain that she would act professionally, and make the right call.

"His psyche profile. He's said to possess an open mind, and has a great deal of patience. He might just need it. Unfortunately, most other BlackWolves possess the common "lone wolf" mindset, which would be detrimental for leading a team."

Gabriel stared at him blankly for a few seconds. He was beginning to think he'd made a bad call, when she groaned.

"Curse you and your logic..." she muttered, before masking her irritation with her usual cool indifference when it came to the job. Though Michael knew better than to trust it at face value.

"That leaves the Forensics/Science, Stealth, Mage and Enforcer positions." She listed out the traditional team roles, before reaching over to the holopad and started flicking through the files of potential candidates, quickly noticing one oddity.

"You only have one possible for the forensic role? You wouldn't need a BlackWolf for that position, surely." The BlackWolves were mainly made up of all roles other than that particular category, considering that they faced combat on a regular basis.

Michael inclined his head briefly, easily understanding her evident puzzlement. Rubbing the back of his neck feeling a tad nervous with this next one, he expanded the file. This time, instead of a human, a hologram of a bipedal anthropomorphic dark grey furred wolf like creature, clad in a light grey armour, filled the screen.

"Unfortunately, there's a shortage of forensics agents in circulation. Most of what we do have are needed where they are currently stationed. Fenris is one of the only ones available, and is definitely the best out of what small pickings there are." **(Although Fenris is an OC, he isn't one of the main 4, so won't have as much focus on him)**

Gabriel tilted her head to the left, just as the waiter returned with her drink. Grasping the offered glass gingerly, she took a sip, then set it down on the table with a soft 'ding'. She couldn't help but think that he looked familiar. After a pause, it came to her in an eureka moment.

"Wasn't he one of those we rescued from Naruud in Russia? About a year or so back, if my memory serves."

Michael responded positively, clenching his fists at the thought of that... that... bastard still not having been caught. There was no other way to describe him, though admittedly he could get quite imaginative when he wanted too.

"Yes. After he'd been cleared for release, he showed up at the local academy doors not two weeks later. Guess my next pick had an impact on him."

He glanced out the window as he spoke, watching the rain fall patter, patter, pattering over the duraglass. Even now, he couldn't forget the horrors he saw that day. So preoccupied with his musings, he hadn't noticed what had slipped out at the end.

"Oh? And what exactly do you mean by that?"

Shaken out of his reminisce, Michael brought his attention back to the matter at hand.

"Mmm? Oh! I-I meant that my choice of Mage has good relations with him. He was part of the team that got him out. Of course, he was just a regular agent back then."

Closing Fenris' file, he swiped down the list of files with rapid pace, stopping only when he'd realised that he had gone too far down. Blushing in a bit of minor embarrassment (and don't think he didn't hear those snickers, Gabs!), he opened the selected file.

What came up was a man clad in a rather interesting Mage outfit, a long-hooded cloak, which looked like it had been cut from the fabric of space itself. The hood was currently down, showing a dark-skinned face with blue eyes flowing silver hair that ended just below his shoulders and two bangs over the edges of his forehead.

Gabriel's eyebrows rose up like drawbridges. "Xuthan?"

"Yes. Our Dragon Mage."

**Rome, 10:37pm, 3 days later...**

Darkness had fallen over the remnants of the eternal city. As a rather important religious and cultural target, the city had suffered badly in the early days of the war. Thankfully the Italians were nothing if not resilient, and so reconstruction efforts began quickly to repair the great capital. While slow at first, after the war ended, they got help from other nations, due to them recognising the significance to world history the place had.

"Blasted cold..."

This however wasn't what was on the mind of a certain mage whom was currently out, while most had turned in for the night. While Xuthan would have liked nothing more than to have a good night's sleep, instead of freezing his ass off out here, the job said otherwise.

The young magic user had been brought in to help investigate a series of murders over the past few months, with 4 stab victims having been found in black sacrificial garments, with runic circles underneath them, each in relatively public places. Add that these rituals happened whenever there was a full moon, increasing magical potency, was just the cherry on top.

Since the local BlackGuards didn't have much experience with crimes of the magical nature, Xuthan had volunteered his services.

He had been able to determine that they were summoning circles of sorts, requiring some level of blood in order to function. And from evidence the other LEO's had gained, there was more than one perpetrator involved. Just lovely (note his sarcasm).

What they were attempts to summon, well, when considering the pattern of runes, and the level of dark magic he could feel radiating from them, he would bet on it being a demon of sorts. Which one, however, he had no idea. However, judging from the fact that there hadn't been a massacre of roman citizens yet, that meant that either:

A. The summon attempts had failed, as the demon was too powerful for just one human sacrifice to bring into the real world, but the idiots doing it didn't know this, and so kept trying it.

Or

B. There were multiple weaker class demons now running around, which was ridiculous as the weaker the demon, the less intelligent they were. They wouldn't understand the concept of 'lying low', as it were.

Understanding that, Xuthan brought his findings to the head of BlackGuards Roman department, whose response was to set a curfew, increased the number of evening patrols and told the citizens not to open their doors to anyone. Much to Xuthan's disagreement. His worry being that the group responsible would act less predictably and desperate with their next attempt, as the next full moon was approaching. Tonight, in fact. Which could result in more bodies being dropped when they tried abducting their next victim.

The chief had bit back that his responsibility was to the immediate safety of the people, and refused to hear a word otherwise. To be fair, Xuthan did understand where he was coming from, but it also made his job a lot harder.

This is what led to our mage, clothed in his cloak and dark blue suit underneath, to be currently perched on the roof of the building overlooking the Trevi fountain, with a small gold bound tome hovering in front of him, the pages flicking as of in anticipation. Here, he should have little trouble sensing any magic being cast in the city, and get there in time to intervene. Sitting in a meditative pose, he cast his senses out, eyes closed, focusing solely on sensing any form of offensive or dark magic being cast in the area.

Silence reigned, the usual night life activities not happening on this evening. All he could do was wait...

Minutes past. Then half an hour. And still he remained sitting there, senses alert.

Suddenly, he jumped to his feet, his head whirling around towards the southwest. He'd just picked up a bit of dark magic being used, it's typing unmistakable. Luckily, he had a pretty good idea where it was coming from. Calling the grimoire back to his hand, a large glowing blue magic circle appeared beneath him, before they disappeared, like they had never been there at all.

**Colosseum**

The arched circular form of the ancient gladiatorial arena of the Roman Empire had seen better nights than this. The top floor still had maxasteel scaffolding over it, due to it being badly damaged in a bombing run.

Strangely though, the main floor of the arena had seemingly been replaced overnight. If only it weren't for such insidious purposes.

A large platform had been erected in the centre of the massive floor space. On it was a large brazier, lit and smoking. At the base was a small set of stairs, and surrounding them were ten robed, hooded individuals. 9 of them were clad in grey, but the last was in pitch black, and they were all covered in archaic markings.

The being in black stepped forward, towards their makeshift altar, before turning to his followers.

"My friends..." he began, his voice soothing and encouraging. "Soon our efforts in the name of Lord Mygorax will be rewarded. On this night, he will come! We have been delayed, but his rising is inevitable!"

Around him, the acolytes started murmuring and muttering to each other, each filled with an eerie excitement.

"The people think they can stop this momentous event." He gazed upon them all, his stare piercing their very souls. "They are wrong!"

The clamouring got louder, unable to stop the feeling of accomplishment that filled their cores.

"The Mages..." this earned a few hisses of anger and disgust. "... think that by locking our lord out of this world, they will be safe; that they will be protected."

"Lies!" A female follower snarled, to which the leader nodded approvingly.

"In truth, they feared his power, the power to crush them in a single blow! This power is not to be feared, but revered. And this power, will help us bring about a new world order!"

The audience was now roaring in approval,... until a voice of uncertainty came out.

"Will it?!"

Everyone went quiet, as a male follower near the back of the pack stepped out of the line-up.

"You've told us this the last four times we've gathered, and what do we have to show for it? Nothing!"

A few more followers looked at each other, unable to deny their fellows words.

The leader threw back his hood, revealing a tanned, bald headed, hazel eyed man with a strong chin. Looking at the dissenter with a feeling of disbelieving indignation, he strode forward, until they were face to face.

"You dare question Lord Mygorax?"

"I'm not questioning him, I'm questioning you, Braxius!" Was the unyielding response.

Strangely, Braxius seemed to relax, which shouldn't have happened, considering his leadership was being questioned.

"Well, then... it appears you've had this stewing for a while now, haven't you?"

The doubting Thomas looked baffled by his reaction, and those around the pair certainly couldn't blame him.

Quick as a snake, Braxius grabbed the fool by the throat with one hand, lifting him up off the ground, startling the others.

"Unfortunately," he whispered, so that only the unbeliever would hear him, said unbeliever trying and failing to pull his hand away. ", Lord Mygorax has no use for disbelieving heretics..."

Raising his other hand so that it was inches from his face, he roared out to the rest. "This is the fate of all traitors to our Lords will!"

For a second, nothing happened. Then a large black, beetle like creature appeared on Braxius' palm, before leaping onto the betrayer's face. Then, one creature became two. Then three. The beetles started burrowing into the man's skin, multiplying as they went, feasting on his flesh, digging deeper and deeper, through muscle and organs alike. The man screamed for a few moments, but stopped once his vocal cords had been devoured. Still the insects did their work, ignoring Braxius's hand still holding the near corpse aloft.

Soon, all that was left was a skeleton, clad in clothing, which leader dropped to the ground, the beetles disappearing. It clattered onto the ground, just another death in the arena.

"Would anyone else like to question my leadership?" He inquired, looking around at the others with a raised eyebrow. "Come on, don't be afraid to speak up."

The group remained silent, fear gripping them. Some were internally questioning his sanity, but stayed silent in fear of those creatures, or worse being set on them.

"Good." He remarked, after a few moments of silence. "Now, as I was about to say, before we were rudely interrupted..." he broke off, glancing at the remains as if they were little more than a mild inconvenience.

"We have not had much success over these past few months. That is why our ritual tonight, will be a little... different to our previous ones."

"How so, leader?" A quivering female voice asked, still unnerved by the display seconds ago.

"I have come to the realisation that a human sacrifice simply isn't enough to summon our lord here." Seeing some curious expressions, he continued, raising a palm towards the platform. "What we need is a creature of much higher value!"

A red magic circle blazed to life, allowing something new onto the stage. When they saw what it was, the followers gasped, shock running rampant among them.

On the platform, chained and muzzled, was a small male child, not even 7 years old, but what caused the shock was his body's appearance.

From the chest down, he was covered in red scales, whereas his arms and neck had blue scales, both having curved golden patterns over them. He had yellow bone armour plates in certain places, and two small wings emerging from his back, trying to get free of its binds. His face was mostly human, with pale brown spiked hair, with a section of armour covering part of the front like a sort of helm. **(Ace from Puzzles and Dragons X)**

Eventually losing his strength, his mismatched red and blue eyes looked at the gathered cultists in fear.

"What is this... creature?" A male disciple questioned, uncertainty in his look.

"A dragonoid." Braxius replied, smugly. "Part human, part dragon."

"Braxius... how?" The same woman who spoke earlier asked. "The dragons haven't been seen in five years! They were considered extinct!"

"An... acquaintance was happy to part with the two of them." Braxius responded vaguely, waving it off, as a picture of a certain glasses wearing scientist, if he could be considered that anymore, entered his mind for a moment. "I have the other chained below, as a welcome _meal _for our lord."

Glancing upward, he smirked devilishly as he laid eyes on the full moon. "The time approaches! The moon is almost in position. Get ready for the sacrifice!"

Hearing that word, the dragonoid renewed its struggles to get free, as the cultists all smiled, their faith restored.

A pity it was about to come crashing down.

"I think not." Came a new voice, echoing all around them, the snapping of a book shut accompanying it.

Trying to find the source, they found Xuthan standing atop the edge of the former Emperors box, glaring at them with such disgust and loathing, it was a wonder they didn't self-combust then and there.

His grimoire was clutched tightly in his right hand, over his chest, allowing them to see the black draconic emblem on the front.

"What business is this of yours, heathen?" Braxius growled, overcoming his surprise. Really, it was one thing after another today. "Leave now, and we might let you live."

Whatever he was expecting, it certainly wasn't for the opposing wizard to start chuckling, building up into a roar of laughter.

"You speak as if you actually possess the skill to do that." He choked out, calming down, his confident manner returning. "And even then, you have the nerve to suggest I walk away..." he paused, his eyes flicking momentarily to their captive.

"When you have two beings directly tied to my magic in chains!" He let go of his grimoire, allowing it to hover into the air, where it opened the cover going a full one eighty as the pages flipped through, coming to rest on a page halfway through.

A new purple magic circle the size of Xuthan's torso came to view, it's light blinding, the cultists backing away covering their eyes in the process.

Slowly it died down, only for them to get yet another shock. Standing on the edge next to this... interloper was an actual dragon! It was purple with a yellow belly, with matching horns, and yellow-red spines on his head and along his back, his wings sharing the same pattern **(Dawn of the Dragon Spyro)**. Looking at the group in confusion, the newcomer soon saw the young dragonoid's predicament.

Letting out a growl of rage at what he saw, he was about to fly over, when Xuthan placed his hand on his head, halting him momentarily.

Raising his left hand, a brief flash of light signalled the arrival of a weapon in his grasp. It was a double-sided halberd, with the bottom end having a harpoon tip, the top end sporting an axe head **(Seven Deadly Sins: Galand's halberd)**.

"Spyro, at the risk of sounding cliché..." Xuthan pointed at the group, still stunned by his actions. "Sic 'em."

"With pleasure." To the alarm of the cultists, the dragon replied back, before jumping from the wall into a glide, heading right at them.

"Keep them away from the alter!" Braxius shouted, with a smidgen of fear present. He'd come too far to fall short now! Turning to the platform, he ran towards it, trying to get the ritual circle ready in time. Heeding his orders, the group sprang into action, four charging to meet the BlackGuard and his companion, while the rest hung back.

Not willing to let his dragon do all the work, Xuthan leapt from the wall, his magic empowering his legs to get better distance.

Spyro meanwhile had reached the approaching acolytes, one of attacked first.

"**Green Blast!" **Throwing his arms forward, he released twin green magic bolts, currently streaking toward the airborne purple dragon.

"Oh, please..." he scoffed, halting his own momentum in mid-air. Flipping into a ball, a green ball of energy began to surround him, before condensing into a solid spiked earth sphere, which crashed to the ground, the bolts overshooting him.

Remaining motionless, the sphere started spinning in several directions on the spot, one after another, before shooting off, slamming into the Mage that had fired at him.

Thrown back, with several long scratches which bled all over his body. Oddly, the man remained upright, though was breathing heavily.

Continuing on, the ball changed directions, locking onto another cultist, this one a woman. She, however, was ready.

"**No Earth!**" A domed green energy shield surrounded her, a couple of feet from her body. "Just get through this, lizard!"

"**Magic Cancel.**" Unfortunately, she hadn't taken into account his master's interference, whom had now landed near the other two members that had gone forward, his weapon held in a bojutsu stance behind his back, running along his arm. The shield shut down, just as the dragon was inches from her defences.

_Wha-? _

WHAM!

The heavy earthen shell bowled her over as if she were little more than a set of cricket stumps. Unlike her fellow hit seconds earlier, she relied more on magical defences. As such, the hit turned her into a mess, the only reason she survived was that Spyro had begun to break the shell apart just before impact. Even so, she'd only be able to eat through a straw in future.

Over with Xuthan, he was going halberd to summoned staff with one of the other two mages that had gone ahead, parrying a blow aimed at his neck, before responding with a swipe toward the knees. Jumping back, his foe backed off, letting the second try to blindside him in the back with a curse.

"**Bone Melt!**"

_Amateur... _Hearing the incantation, Xuthan launched himself skyward, while flipping backwards, the purple curse blast firing and passing underneath him, heading towards his now bug-eyed compatriot. Thankfully for him, he got his staff up in time to block, at the cost of getting thrown onto his back.

With him down temporarily, he came down like a ton of bricks on the curse user.

"**Dragon Fire!**"

Erupting from his mouth was a veritable firestorm, engulfing the enemy in flames, before he even realised what was happening.

Then the pain began, the magical blaze burning his clothes to ash, before starting on him! Crying out as it seared his flesh, he fell to the ground whimpering, Xuthan finishing the job by impaling him with the harpoon end of his halberd as the fire died away.

"Rest in hell..." he whispered harshly.

The staff user had gotten back to his feet, roaring in anger at what had befallen his friend.

"Round 2?" Xuthan asked mockingly, making a 'come at me' gesture, having withdrawn his weapon from the newly limp corpse.

Back to the dragon, Spyro had now frozen the first Mage he'd struck solid with his ice breath. Which was probably a mercy anyway, considering the damage his earth sphere had done earlier. The way he was going he would have bled out sooner or later.

Glancing at the platform, he froze for a moment, calling out to his master.

"Xuthan! The circle!"

Xuthan turned his attention to what his friend was indicating, only to gape in horror. Braxius was already three quarters of the way finished writing out the summon circle! And they were still nowhere near them!

"**Bolt Smasher!**"

His distraction cost him, the staff user's Crimson lightning blast landing a hit.

Luckily, the enemy hadn't had sufficient time to charge it, so Xuthan's hastily made shield held it back, but it did force him back a few steps.

His hood blown back, the dragon mage knew that this wasn't working, and his frustrated demeanour showed this. Time to bring in a bigger gun, but first...

Turning his annoyed gaze back to the staff wielder, he slammed his free palm onto the ground.

"**Earth Shackles!**"

Chains of solid rock burst from the ground, wrapping around their target before he could blink. Dropping his staff, he struggled against them, trying to break free. About to cast another spell, he was cut off, when Xuthan cast again, placing a finger on his captives' forehead.

"**Null Seal!**"

A strange tattoo appeared on the man's forehead, resembling a curled dragon in flight. To the man's terror, he felt his connection to his magic fade away.

"Don't worry..." came the chiding tone. "It only lasts a few hours."

Reaching back towards the Emperors box, he called his Grimoire back to his hand, the pages moving again, this time settling on a page two thirds in.

"Come out and play!" he roared, as a dark red magic circle marked the arrival of another dragon. But this one was not like Spyro. No, this one was much larger.

Erupting onto the Colosseum floor, was a dragon with an unusual body and hidden wings, looking to be made up of pointed dark red flower petals. Emerging from this mass were a purplish black tail, and long neck, leading to a hawklike face, glaring down at those arrogant upstarts that dare challenge her master **(Yugioh 5d's: Black Rose Dragon).**

Glancing at Spyro, whom was now flying over the other four cultists protecting Braxius and the platform, doing bombing runs with his fire breath, Xuthan just pointed, jumping onto Rose's back as he did so. From the looks of things, they'd placed a barrier of some sorts, keeping Spyro from directly attacking Braxius. Clever. That'd be enough to stop a lot of mages cold. Not him, though.

"Help him out."

Instantly, Black Rose took off, her rage spiking seeing a hatchling under threat. Once she was close enough, Xuthan ascended into the air himself, bringing his halberd up, the tip facing down. Channelling his magic into it to give it more piercing power, the weapon gained an orange miasmic aura. _Never thought I'd use this as a shield breaker..._

"**Zanbarazan!**"

The spear tip became a blur, striking the shield multiple times with deadly precision and accuracy. The barrier shattered under the magically enhanced blows, the resulting shockwave behind the strikes also cracking the platform around the edges, making it sag slightly.

Jolted by the force of the impact, Braxius was forced to abandon creating his circle in favour of defending himself, as Xuthan was now right on top of him, electricity crackling in his grasp.

"**Shock Striker!**"

Braxius leapt away, as the lightning bolt his enemy summoned vaporised the section of the platform he had been standing near... including one of the anchor points for the chains keeping the young dragonoid captive.

With one of his bonds now broken, the hybrid renewed his efforts to escape, as Braxius was left seething at everything coming undone.

"How dare you-" he snarled, but was cut off, when the interloper shot back with equal ferocity.

"HOW DARE I?!" He shouted; his look of utter disgust locked on the head of the cult. "You chain an innocent creature here, murder four others, and have the absolute fucking gall, to say how dare I?!"

Levelling his spear right at Braxius, he paused, looking at something behind him.

Wondering what was so eye catching, the demons disciple turned his head, but was left gaping in terror, upon gazing right into Black Rose's face inches from his own. She was glaring at him hard, as if pondering whether or not to eat this stupid human, or if he'd taste good, it was hard to tell sometimes.

"I wouldn't make any sudden moves or run if I were you." Xuthan shrugged, acting nonchalant. "She loves the thrill of the chase."

In all honesty, he was sorely tempted to let Black Rose eat him. But that would put him in trouble with the higher ups. _Not to mention,_ he glanced back at the arena floor, where Spyro was standing guard by a few frozen and burning acolytes, and took note of the scorch marks in the floor, caused by both dragon's fire attacks. _I'm already going to be in hot water with the locals for blowtorching part of a national monument!_

Braxius stood stock still, but inwardly he was apocalyptic, his clenched jaw and steel eyed look being the only visible reaction. All his plans to summon Lord Mygorax, gone! Dust! All due to this BlackGuard stooge!

"You will not get away with this." He hissed.

"Oh?" Xuthan looked curious. "Get away with what, exactly? I've pretty much dismantled your little posse, so you'll have to be more specific on that." His tone turned mocking at the end.

"**Infern-**" his patience reaching its end, Braxius tried his luck, only to get smacked to the ground with the axe end of his enemy's spear. Grabbing the man by the forehead, Xuthan put the final nail in his coffin. "Either way... don't mess with a dragon mage."

"**Sleep Shock!"**

Electricity crackled over the pair, jolting through Braxius, crying out in pain as it coursed through him, eventually passing out.

Breathing out a sigh of relief, now that that headache was over, Xuthan turned his attention to the hybrid child, whom was now trying to get the gag off his face.

Approaching, he stopped for a moment as the kid flinched away, clearly uncertain as to whether he was trustworthy.

"Hey." He started, softly, putting his weapon on the ground, trying to convey that he wasn't a threat. "How about I get that off?"

Staring at him with mismatched eyes, the youth stayed where he was, trying to judge him. Eventually, he moved forward, allowing the mage access to it.

Reaching around the back of his head, He found the restraint tied with a leather belt strap. Undoing it, he let the straps fall away, as the kid quickly got it off, and threw it to one side, breathing heavily, as the shock of the situation finally got to him. Falling to his knees, he began hyperventilating, tears falling as he sobbed.

Acting fast, Xuthan quickly got him into a hug. He clearly needed it. "Shhh...shh... it's all over now. You're safe."

Latching onto his saviour, the young boy bawled his eyes out, staining the mages suit with tears, but he wasn't so fussed about that.

After what seemed like hours, but was in actual fact a few minutes, the boy calmed down at last.

"Thank you..." he spoke quietly.

Smiling warmly down at him, Xuthan pulled him to his feet. "You're welcome. Now, what say we find your friend and get out of here?"

Nodding frantically, it was safe to say that that's what he wanted.

"Alright, I just need to make a call." Reaching into his cloak, he stopped, returning his gaze to the former captive. "My name is Xuthan, what's yours?"

Blinking at the question, having not expected it, the brunette answered.

"Ace."

"Cool name."

**Hotel room, Next morning.**

Xuthan yawned as he got out of bed, having gotten very little sleep after the fight last night. With the battle over, the pair had wasted no time in freeing the other dragonoid, a young boy named Hajime, whom much like Ace, had broken down after they got the restraints off him. After calling in the locals, paramedics had tried to get a look at him and the boys, only to terrify the latter.

Explaining the situation to them, Xuthan had been allowed custody of them for the time being, considering that he was the only one they trusted. Ace himself was still fast asleep in the next room. And Hajime was spread out over a nearby couch. The young dragonoid was covered in black scales covering his body, bar his face, red and white bone plates over his chest and arms respectively. Also, around his forehead was another bit of red bone, shaped almost like a headband, over which flowed his messy reddish-brown hair. **(Hajime from Battle Spirits Heroes)**

Rubbing his head at the thought of him, Xuthan sat at the table to figure things out. Safe to say, both of them were going to have a lot of psychological trauma, both from how they ended up as hybrids, and from there, near killed by a group of magical crazies. Well, he vowed to help them through it then and there. His honour as a dragon mage demanded it, but he would have done so regardless. Now, what could he do to help?

His thoughts were interrupted by a buzzing sound coming from his suit, which was hanging over the back of a nearby chair. Groaning at the headache forming, he strode over to it, and started scrabbling about in the interior pockets, searching for something.

After finding out a ruby, a chicken bone (don't ask how that got in there), and a piece of sage, he finally pulled out a blue stone, pulsating with a blue light on and off.

Standing back up, he activated it, allowing a small holographic figure to appear over it.

"This had better be good Fenris..." yawning again, he stretched out his other arm. "I'm about to die on my feet here."

"Oh. Sorry, I wasn't aware you had a bad night." Came the reply of the wolf like creature, looking a tad sheepish, if you knew what to look for.

"That's ok. Not your fault."

"Well, the bosses were trying to reach you, but weren't having any luck."

"So, they got you to call?" He asked, stretching his legs out.

"Yes. Anyway, have you heard? Naruud surfaced in New York!" He asked, snarling the name with such venom, it was a wonder Xuthan wasn't deaf.

"Tell me how you really feel..." he muttered, rubbing his left ear, before fully absorbing his statement. "Wait, New York? Why the hell would he be there? His stomping ground has always been Europe."

"I'll tell you on the flight later. We've both been reassigned."

Xuthan dropped the stone. The shock of the statement was just too much for that morning. Picking it back up after a few moments, he spoke, his disbelief evident.

"I'm sorry, I must have misheard you. We've been what?!"

**Back to the past!**

Her recognition of the War of Roses hero allowed her to see the pros and cons about this, considering what she knew of the pair of them. In the end, one point was vital.

"You're right in this instance. Since they already know each other, and from what mission history I can see, have worked together before, putting them on a team together is logical, so yes, they are good choices."

Michael's shoulders dropped, his stress levels lessening significantly. That was two roles sorted. Now the final two.

"For our enforcer, now, he's a bit of a surprise."

"How so?" She asked, taking a sip of her drink in the process.

"Let's put it this way, he'll be one of the only non-powered guys on the team."

Gabriel spat her drink out, showering Michael's face in cola. After a hasty apology, she enquired as to whom he meant. Regular humans making it into the BlackWolves were rare, and if they did, that showed just how skilled they were.

"I don't think I need to tell you just how good he is, but here." Michael wiped the drops of cola off with his napkin as he continued.

This time the display showed a shaggy black-haired man, with black pupil-less eyes, clad in a greyish black cloak **(organisation xiii uniform)**.

"His name is Azazel Serizawa."

**Somewhere in the English countryside, four days later...**

Great Britain had been a major player in the pro-powers side of the war, likening what the opposition was doing to mutant and mages to the actions committed by the Nazi's, back in WW2.

Repulsed by these reports, they took a stand. And they weren't alone. They only became further enraged at the enemy, when an infiltrator attempted to assassinate the royal family.

Unfortunately, like with a few other cities, there were a few groups of sympathisers of the opposing forces, seeing the newfound beings as 'unnatural' or 'freaks'. A few pocket resistances set themselves up over the city, with MI5 having to work overtime to rout them, not liking the idea of such civil disobedience and/or treason.

Even so, some movements slipped through the cracks. One such group was the Only Human Militia, founded in the middle of the war, and had supplied the enemies with data on certain targets, given them weapons stolen from their own forces, locations of supply drops and other potential threats. After the republic was formed, the remnants of it went dark, biding their time. A time that had come. Responsible for several raids and bombings across England, targeted towards both Mutants and Mages alike, their last attack had nearly destroyed Downing St. As to where they were hiding?

One group of them had overtaken a small old military compound, the records of which had been destroyed in a fire they set to cover their tracks.

Night-time was prevalent, as an old Jeep with tinted windows, pulled up at the front gates. After checking the vehicle for any form of tracking devices, and ascertaining the driver's identity, they were allowed to pass through.

After driving through to a vehicle depot, the jeep came to a halt, its driver's side door opening to reveal a tall thin Caucasian man dressed in green, with a semi auto 9mm TriGlock strapped to his hip. The other door also opened as a hooded woman in red exited, an AK-97 assault rifle hanging from a strap over her shoulder.

Slamming her door shut, she then proceeded to open the trunk, her colleague coming around to join her. With a harsh yank, she pulled out another person, whose face was obscured by a black sack of sorts, and his hands were bound in maxasteel handcuffs.

"Out, traitor!"

Stumbling against her male compatriot due to the unexpected pull, their evident prisoner was soon on his feet.

The driver took him by the shoulder, effectively dragging him across the parking bay, and out into the cold air, the woman closely following.

Traversing across the base, they came past the old barracks, a few guards, and arrived at a central building with a large satellite dish atop it. Entering, they nodded to the two sentries standing guard at the stairs leading down.

Down they descended, their captive tripping halfway down, falling against his male captor, only to be pulled up again seconds later, the woman jamming her weapon into his back.

"Keep going."

Receiving an incline of the head as her only answer, they proceeded on, coming to a stop at an interrogation area. Opening the door to the interview room, they shoved their captive into the accused chair, his hands under the table, then stepped back and waited. After a few minutes, another large man with a black buzz cut and tanned skin entered, clad in black, and had a few decent scars over his forehead and right cheek.

Lighting an E-Cigar as he came in, he slowly moved to sit himself in the interrogators seat, deliberately taking his time.

When he finally seated himself, he stared at the being across from him.

"Take it off." He ordered softly, his British accent coming through. As he did so, he turned on a desk lamp, shining the light in the face of their prisoner.

The woman stepped forward, and ripped the sack off their captive's head, revealing the bruised face of Azazel Serizawa. Blinking at his new surroundings, the BlackWolf glanced around before his gaze settled on the man opposite.

"You're kidding me with the room, right?" He asked, looking a tad incredulous. What was this, the 1980s?

Ignoring the attempted insult, the man spoke. "I was interested to meet one of the greatest traitors to humanity. And here he is, at my mercy."

"'He' has a very different definition of traitor." Was the biting retort, only to get punched in the face by the male guard.

"Be silent!" Was the low snarl, the voice dripping with venom.

Azazel just gave him a WTF look. "Didn't you learn to never start with the head? The victim gets fuzzy and can't feel the-"

He was hit again, this time by the woman's rifle butt, slamming his face onto the tabletop.

Lifting it back up, while his face was red from the impact, he appeared unaffected by the strike or impact. Raising an eyebrow, looking like a parent chastising a child, he mockingly pointed out:

"See?"

"Enough." The man sitting opposite them, not wanting this stupidity to continue, as he rubbed his temples in exasperation. "He knows not his idiocy. Given what we are about to do though, I doubt it'll last." He smirked, a smirk that would, under normal circumstances, have sent shivers down anyone's spine.

Taking a drag of his cigar, he blew the smoke into Azazel's face, causing him to cough for a few moments. While this occurred, he turned to his subordinates.

"How did you get him?"

"He tried to infiltrate one of our meetings in London. We made him when he failed a security question."

Chuckling at the agent's failure, he looked at Azazel, clearly amused. "So much for the great BlackGuard intelligence, eh?" He mocked, taking another drag as his expression turned sour. "Bunch of unnatural sympathisers and fools!"

Azazel's eye twitching was the only response to the dig, but he managed to remain calm. A miracle in of itself.

"Even so..." the boss went on. "The fact that they even found one of our meetings is troubling." His gaze turned piercing, trying to gauge the agent in front of him.

"How did you find it?"

Azazel shrugged, blinking due to the light in his eyes. "Wouldn't you like to know, Alister?"

_Bam!_

The now named Alister slammed his palm on the table, in a show of force. That was most certainly not something he'd been expecting. He had gone to great lengths to keep his real name hidden.

"You know my name?"

The BlackGuard agent just gazed at him with a mock surprised look.

"Oh? Was that meant to be a secret? Sorry, I don't really respect the privacy of terrorist dickheads."

The female of the group moved to strike him again, only for Alister to hold up a hand to stop her.

"Your wit is amusing. But make no mistake, you will tell me everything I want to know."

Retracting his hand from the table, Alister put out his cigar, deciding to save it for after.

"Now, how did-"

"No." Azazel interrupted, shaking his head with a snigger. The OHM members just looked stunned for a second.

"I fail to see what is so funny, scum." Alister glared, thinking he still had the upper hand. "You have an automatic rifle close to your head, and you're handcuffed-"

_Clatter!_

The room went still as Azazel tossed the said handcuffs onto the table with his now freed left hand.

"Not anymore."

The proverbial bullet was shot, as Azazel rapidly brought his right arm up to grab the woman's rifle, and force it up as she went to fire, the male guard fumbling for his sidearm.

At the same time, using his other hand, he flipped the table over, sending Alister backward towards the opposite wall.

Kicking his chair backward, Azazel wrestled with the terrorist's weapon, pushing it to just above his right shoulder as she pulled the trigger.

Gunfire burst to life, as the rounds echoes around the room, one striking the male grunt in the upper arm, causing him a cry out and drop his Glock.

Taking advantage of her position, Azazel slammed his knee into her gut, making her lose her grip on the assault rifle, as he then ripped it out of her hands.

Deciding to repay her for how she treated him earlier, he brought the rifle butt into her chin, snapping her head back.

Whirling, the BlackGuard fired in Alister's direction, but luck was against him, as the man had fled out the door once he saw Azazel struggling with his subordinate.

Having recovered from the earlier hit, the woman spat a tooth out, and then tackled him, getting him in a headlock. While the other arm tried to reclaim her weapon.

Stumbling forward, Azazel brought his free elbow back, striking her side repeatedly. Despite the continued pain, she gritted her teeth and kept trying.

Noticing the lack of reaction, he switched tactics, throwing himself backwards, the pair hit the wall, his attacker getting the brunt of the blow. Losing her grip on his neck due to being winded, she slid to the floor.

Twisting, Azazel paused to fire at the other would-be captor, whom had now managed to draw his weapon. The rounds struck him in the chest, and he went down for good.

Not wanting to waste any more time, the BlackWolf turned back to the woman. Raising the rifle like a club, he brought it across into her face, sending her to dreamland.

The two immediate threats taken care of, He pushed to catch his breath... just as the bases alarm went off. Well wasn't that dandy?

Quickly searching the OHM pair, he relieved the man of his pistol, sliding it into his jacket, plus three clips for it. From the woman, he pocketed two extra magazines for the rifle, and an old Bowie knife.

Checking the rifles current ammo, he found the mag at just over half. Snapping it back in, he sped out in search of Alister, pausing only in the doorway to give a parting shot.

"See ya, assholes. Your hospitality sucked."

Coming to the bottom of the staircase, he ducked back, when another guard, this one male, spotted him from the halfway point, and fired with their own handgun.

Peering out, he returned fire with the AK, causing his opponent to take cover. Withdrawing for a second, he waited for the terrorist to pop back out again before letting loose. With a jerk, the man fell down the stairs rolling down the last few.

Reloading, he stepped over the body, and strode up the stairs, heart pounding, keeping his weapon up, preparing for anything or anyone.

Reaching the ground floor, Azazel stopped when he observed no one around. Not liking it one bit, he scanned the area, his gaze falling on a corridor entrance to his left. Moving to the wall connecting to it, he approached slowly, being careful not to make a sound.

The final sentry stepped out, holding a futuristic looking long barrelled rifle. As a low humming filled the air, Azazel dived to one side, as an energy pulse of bright blue light pierced his former position.

Letting rip with his own rifle, he run across the room, vaulting back over the desk to the small reception area. He got behind it just as another pulse filled the space he had been seconds before, leaving a black mark on the wall behind them.

_A pulse rifle?! Where the fuck did the OHM get those?!_ He thought frantically, lifting his arms to fire blindly over the counter for a few seconds, giving him time to think of a way around it.

His confusion was well deserved. Pulse weapons were only relatively new technology, the only reason they weren't now the standard was because of how expensive to create, let alone the power packs needed to fire them. However, they made up for it with their destructive potential, able to fire either quick volleys or a charged blast. Conventional guns were still able to be produced in greater quantity for a much cheaper price, which was why they were still around. As such, the pulse weapons were only issued to a select few high-ranking BlackGuards. The fact that terrorists had gotten their hands on one, possibly more, as Azazel doubted they'd just hand one to a guard, was very worrying.

"Motherfucker!"

Cursing as his gun emptied, he hastily ejected the old mag and strapped in the last one he had. Thinking fast, he realised that he needed a distraction, something that would take the grunts eyes off him for a second. That pulse rifle would make quick work of his cover.

As he pondered the problem, he caught sight of an old wheeled swivel chair. Blinking for a second, a mischievous smirk emerged. _Perrrrfect._

The guard by now had had to eject his power pack as he moved out of cover, and was snapping another one into place. One more charged shot would eradicate the mutant loving heathen.

Powering it up, he aimed towards the man's cover. All too easy...

Movement towards the side of the desk made his eyes glance towards said movement. Fatal mistake.

Azazel popped up, drawing his attention too little too late, as he was filled with holes by his enemies AK.

Moving away from the desk area, Azazel tossed the AK away, snatching up the pulse rifle. He'd never used one, but it was either this or the handgun in his coat. And considering how outnumbered he was, he needed the firepower.

"_All personnel, be advised of an escaped blackguard inside the central building. Lethal force Authorised. For Humanity!"_

Alister's voice barked out of the bases intercom system, like the pompous ass that he was.

Realising that he had to move before more guards undoubtedly showed up, he glanced around, looking for any wall signs. Seeing one pointing towards another exit, he ran down the corridor, disappearing from view.

Not long after he left, the doors opened, as two more terrorists entered, each armed with another pulse rifle. Looking at their dead comrade, one let out a roar of anger.

As Azazel was running, a thought struck him, making him come to a brief halt. For Alister to be using the intercom, he'd have to be in the communications/command tower on the other side of the base. It was the only place he could use it. All the good it did him. Getting there was going to be no walk in the park, as the terrorists would undoubtedly be searching for him.

Thinking hard, he tried to think of a way to get to the man, only to come up blank. Then an idea blossomed in his mind, as he remembered a report stating what this group had apparently stolen. That would work. He just needed figure out where the vehicles were kept...

**20 minutes later**

Alister would be the first to say that he wasn't a patient man. He'd often harshly reprimanded if not killing people for failing him.

But still, how hard could it be to track down and kill one man?! On their home turf no less!?

"Could someone tell me where this piece of crap is?!" He shouted in fury, backhanding a lower ranked member, whom had just informed him that Azazel was still at large.

Turning around to stew in his anger, the leader of the OHM gazed over the compound, as he lit another of his cigars. All the stress of a BlackGuard on the loose was getting to him.

"Sir!"

Glancing back as his second in command entered the tower, he took a moment to briefly admire her figure, before coming back to reality.

"What?"

"We've found him! He's back in the vehicle hanger!"

"Have it surrounded!" he barked harshly. "If he thinks he can escape us, he has another thing coming!"

Calling out his orders again through the intercom, he most certainly wasn't expecting what came next.

_"Hello? Is this thing on?"_

An old radio built into the tower came to life, Azazel's voice being heard over the static.

Alister couldn't have been more shocked if they'd hooked him up to the bases power generator.

"How did you get this frequency?"

_"You really should have been more careful with where you put some of your ill-gotten gains."_

Left fuming at the cryptic remark, Alister bit back, trying to regain control of the situation.

"Give up. You're surrounded. And are severely outnumbered and outgunned."

_"I'd question the latter of that last statement. Better yet, why don't I show you?"_

Alister couldn't work out why the agent sounded so cocky. What did he mean by that? Racking his brains, he thought it over. Then he went pale. Snapping his head to his SIC that had just came in, he asked a question with silent fury.

"Didn't I tell you to have the prototype removed to the storage area?!"

The woman stiffened, sweat forming on the back of her neck.

"W-we we're going to, but the alarm sounded before we got around to it! The escaping prisoner seemed more important!" She stammered, trying to excuse her actions.

"You stupid bitch!" he spat, his face turning a sickening purple. "Pull them back, and get some of the older models out of storage, now!"

_"Too late, say hello to my new friend!"_

**Seconds earlier, outside the Vehicle depot**

The main driveway to the depot was covered by seven terrorists, each with their sights set on the entrance into it. Some were armed with pulse weapons, others with more conventional firearms.

Moving closer, they and the others positioned around the building could never have been prepared for what happened next. One moment they were advancing, intent of killing their prey...

...

**BOOM!**

The next something smashed through the garage door, racing down the road leading away from it.

Caught off guard, only a few of them had enough to time to dive to the side, avoiding being run over by the black behemoth that had emerged. The other three weren't so lucky, caught under it and crushed with a set of sickening crunching noises.

The behemoth in question, was a fearsome tank like vehicle with a massive pulse cannon mounted on top, alongside a Vulcan gun mounted on the side next to it, and some extra defences thrown in.

"_Heeeeeerrrrrrreeeee's Azazel!"_

The cannon swivelled around, locking onto the terrorists to his right. With a small fear-inducing, whirring noise, the Vulcan gun sprang to life, spewing out a barrage of bullets at them, as if the devil had come calling, and he was all out of mercy.

The homicidal racist fools dropped like flies, some crying out in agony as they were torn to shreds, their life blood staining the ground beneath them.

On the other side, to Azazel's right, another group of OHM were falling back, realising that it was only a matter of time before they were next.

Ignoring them for the time being, the tank got rolling, moving to the right, off the road that headed for the entrance. Trundling over the grass, it went past the depot, set on course for the communications tower.

Suddenly, it halted in the middle of the compound, for no apparent reason. Then its main weapon turned to the right, a humming noise signifying it getting ready to fire.

Up in the tower, Alister was left gaping as this progressively got worse and worse by the minute. Having turned to the two others in the tower with him, he decided it was time to leave.

"Prepare to abandon the base. Have my-"

His next order was forgotten as Azazel pressed the firing stud for the tanks Cannon.

Instantly a bright red burst of superheated plasma surged out of the barrel, its target being a small light hover jet parked not far from the tower. Plasma vs plane? What happened was a no brainier, as the blast tore it apart, sending it up in a grand fireball.

Inside the cockpit of the tank, Azazel was grinning madly. That little burst just took out a potential escape option, the rest of which were back in the depot, a few of which he had crushed as he'd driven this thing out.

Alister wasn't going anywhere if he had anything to say about it!

Glancing back to one of the control panels in front of him, which had blinking red light next to label reading G.T.S. Global Tracking System.

Certain vehicles built for BlackGuard operations, such as this one, were fitted with them in order to prevent theft. Unfortunately, it had appeared that these sycophants had had it turned off when they got their hands on it. Now that he'd switched it back on, the cavalry (not that he needed it) would be on its way.

Wiping a trail of sweat from his cheeks, he made a mental note to see if the techies back at their Applied Sciences division could fit in an aircon inside it next time. It was quite hot in this thing. And being dressed in dark colours only made it worse.

Getting back on track, he set the tank in motion again, manoeuvring the cannon so that it was aimed right at the communications tower.

"Do I have to blast you out, or will you come quietly?" He snapped into the comm unit inside, having it locked onto the towers radio frequency. He switched the cannons power on as he did so, hoping to intimidate his target.

**Back in the tower**

It was working. Alister was at a complete loss as to what he should do. The majority of his remaining forces were back by the vehicle depot. And they had no weapons capable of putting a dent in that thing, due to its shielding systems.

Still, he wasn't going to surrender to a bastard Neanderthal whom was wreaking havoc out there.

"OVER MY DEAD BODY!" He roared back, spittle flying from his lips into the mic.

_"While I'd like nothing more..." _Was it wrong that that tone sent shivers down his spine?

_"You may want to hang onto something."_

Hang on to-?

Instantly realising his intentions, he cried out "Brace yourselves!"

Back down below, Azazel fired, the blast searing through part of the lower portion of the tower, damaging its central support pillar and compromising its structural integrity in the process. Amazingly, it remained upright, but it began tilting ever so slightly to either side.

"Out, out!" Alister snarled, as the others slowly moved themselves to the exit. Glaring defiantly out the window at the tank for a second longer, he soon followed suit.

Trudging down, being careful not to send the tower over as they went, they soon found themselves outside,... staring down Azazel, whom had left the tank, pulse rifle in one hand (which was an impressive show of physical strength), the Glock he'd stolen earlier in the other, both pointed in their direction, waiting for an excuse, any, to take a shot.

"Now about your group's operations..."

A shot rang out, the Glock silencing the SIC, whom had tried to unholster her own sidearm. Raising an eyebrow at the other two occupants, he went on.

"What was it you said? Oh yes. You're going to tell me everything I want to know."

**2 hours later**

Azazel finally let himself relax as Alister was pushed into a BlackGuard security transport. Quite frankly, he'd been surprised how well things had turned out. The 'cavalry' had turned up, not long after he'd caught the man at gunpoint. They'd been waiting for a signal of sorts from him, telling them the bases location. Afterwards, the other remaining terrorists were rounded up, for the most part. Some did manage to slip through the cracks, but still, they'd caught a section leader. Win some, lose some.

After Azazel had handed the pulse rifle and flock over to be used as evidence, he was getting ready to leave himself, having already given his report to the BlackGuard CO in charge.

Then, strangely, another vehicle pulled into the compound, coming to a stop right in front of him. Blinking in confusion for a moment, it quickly disappeared when the passenger and drivers side doors opened simultaneously, which wasn't weird at all.

From the passenger side emerged a red-haired man with one eye, wearing a red coat over a black suit of sorts. Azazel didn't recognise him, but he did recognise the woman exiting the driver side. The purple clad form of Gabriel Winters, the director of BlackGuard herself.

Caught by surprise, he jerked for a second as she spoke to him.

"Another group taken down, Serizawa? You don't do anything by halves do you?" She asked mirthfully, amusement plain in her eyes.

"D-director! Er-I mean yes, ma'am!" Inwardly cursing for such behaviour, he got to the point. Just as well, because her companion seemed to be eyeing him critically. Not exactly a good first impression.

"Can I ask why you're here?"

"You may." She replied, her tone a little tired now. Reaching into her coat, she pulled out a holopad. Extending her arm, she offered it out to him, but was it just him or did her hand shake just a bit there?

"I'm here with your new orders."

Wondering what exactly these orders would warrant someone of her standing to deliver them in person, he took the pad, reading the document on the screen.

When he got to a certain line, his eyes widened in a look of sheer incredulity.

"What the hell?!"

**Back to the diner**

Scrolling down his record, Gabriel was left stunned. "He's the one behind the Furmon Groups arrest?"

"Yes. Currently, he's working on finding an OHM base. I have full confidence of his success."

Well, if he was capable of that, then there was no problem putting him in. If anything, he was more than good enough to stand with them.

"That leaves your recommendation for the stealth operative." She remarked, just as her meal arrived. Without looking away from her colleague, she tucked in.

Michael twitched, his reaction betraying what he tried to hide.

"You don't have one yet."

"Yes, maybe..." he slumped his shoulders, looking downcast. "... No?"

Gabriel was left baffled over her mouthful. Swallowing, she wracked her mind over it.

Suddenly her eyes lit up. "...I might however have an idea."

At this, her compatriot could only stare blankly. "Would you like to fill me in? I'm a strength enhancer, not a telepath."

"Oh yes, he's a new agent, but very talented, according to his file, only became a BlackWolf a few months back."

Michael tried to think of whom she meant, before the penny dropped.

"Ryo Takahashi? Is that who you mean?"

**Neo Las Vegas, two days later**

The original Las Vegas was one of many cities destroyed in the US, left as nothing more but a massive ruin, due to attacks by the anti-power faction, killing several billion in the process. Once the war was over, the people in Washington, headed by the newly elected senator, decided to try and rebuild them, having them 'rise from the ashes', so to speak.

The city was resurrected, with the iconic strip getting a slight makeover. Unfortunately, certain groups were eager to reclaim old territories. Certain criminal groups, such as the yakuza, the mobs, and some of the Chinese triads had escaped the war, and some were interested in gaining a cut of the new City of Marriage's profits.

Profit how? By what Vegas was arguably most famous for: gambling.

A few groups had opened up a casino there, or had stakes in one. One such casino, was the Oriental Dragon, a 500-floor casino/hotel. The triad had put a lot of money into it. And while it wasn't their only foothold in the USA, it was considered one of their most successful.

Inside the Chinese themed casino/hotel, people were wandering the casino floor, playing and gambling their wealth away. Slots, Blackjack, poker, you name it, this place had it. All while being serviced with exquisite bar drinks.

Around the floor, it wasn't uncommon to see a suit clad security guard, with a hidden weapon or two.

Our attention was drawn to a young Japanese man, just out of his teens, sitting at the blackjack table, clad in a respectable suit for such a place. Currently under surveillance by the guards, as they weren't sure as to whether or not he was a scout for the yakuza. So far, he hadn't given any indication or displayed any markings that would suggest such an allegiance, but they didn't want to take chances.

The man let out a whoop as he won the latest hand, before gathering up his chips and getting up to leave.

"Thank you, but I think I'll leave before my luck turns."

Getting an understanding nod from the dealer, he turned on his heel, and walked across the casino floor, moving past a roulette wheel and a dice table.

Pausing at the exit, he moved to the right, instead of leaving, heading to the bathroom not far from it. Entering the men's, he disappeared from sight.

One of the guards moved after him, not wanting to lose track of a person of interest to his bosses. The last time that happened... well, the one who did lose them found themselves handicapable.

Opening the door, appearing as just another guy entering to do some business, he looked around the styled bathroom, ignoring the elegantly designed sinks. Seeing that a few cubicles had their doors closed, he moved along, glancing down to see if each of them were occupied. No... No...

There was only one left, and he moved forward to get a better look, unable to see if it was being used or not.

Suddenly, the stall door was shoved open, striking the man's face hard. Stumbling backward, he regained focus just in time to see his target step out to point a silenced P999 handgun in his direction.

Two slight pulls of the trigger, and that was all the triad guard wrote.

As his man went down, Ryo Takahashi went to work, grabbing the guard under his arms. Pulling him into a nearby cubicle, he shut the door, positioned the man so that his feet couldn't be seen from the outside, and locked themselves in. He had to move quickly. It wouldn't take long for the triad members outside to come looking.

Sliding under the door, he moved back to the stall he'd originally been hiding in. Locking himself in, he shedded his suit, revealing a black bodysuit with armour plates over vital areas, built more for mobility than protection. Around the waist was a belt holding several compartments, but what they contained wasn't certain. He holstered his gun at his hip, rubbing his wrists for a second afterwards.

Looking upwards, his eyes glanced up at a large ventilation grill above the toilet, partially unscrewed at the edges. Hoping that the other undercover BlackGuard had come through, he finished removing it, and pulled himself up into the vent, putting the grill back into place on the other side.

Flat on his belly, he looked around, finding a canvas bag a few feet in front of him. Good. Crawling over to it, he withdrew a sheathed tanto blade, an old-style looking water canteen, and an earpiece. Sliding the blade into a slot on his back, across his waist, he clipped the canteen to his side and put the comm unit into his ear, activating it as he went.

"I'm online."

_"Wonderful. Any problems?_" Came a female voice from the other side.

"I had to take out a follower. You tell me?"

_"Oh joy. Was that necessary?" _She asked, and he could just picture her raised imperious eyebrow.

"What did you want me to do? Ask him to go to sleep over a cup of tea?" Was his sarcastic reply.

_"Well, you better move. You've got about 5-6 minutes before they realise something's wrong. Maybe 10 if you're lucky."_

_Thank you, captain obvious. _He thought, but didn't complain verbally. Shaking his head, the commando crawled along the vent, keeping his eyes peeled for any unexpected surprises. Taking a left at the fork he reached, he paused to ask for directions.

After receiving them, he went on moving further into the ventilation system, his palms feeling cold against the maxasteel beneath them. Taking a right at the next bend, he went down a slight incline, before turning left again at the next fork.

He soon stopped after a few feet as he came to a straight drop, going down a few floors, it looked like. Not somewhere he wanted to fall.

"How many floors down is the target?" He whispered.

_"It's on floor B-5, according to the blueprints you *ahem* acquired. Your currently on floor B-1. Unfortunately, it goes down to B-8."_

"Wonderful."

Deciding to check for any security, after all, climbing in through the vents was a common thing in movies and TV, he reached down to his belt, pulling out an aerosol can. Pointing into the shaft, he squeezed the button, sending out a misty spray downwards.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then several glowing red beams shimmered into existence, set up on different angles and positions down the shaft, in between floors. Tripwires. Last thing he needed was to set off an alarm.

Returning the can to his belt, he then withdrew a small cylinder with a red button on one end, and a slit around the middle.

"This never gets old." He shook his head in slight amusement. Oh, how he enjoyed getting one over on crooks.

Extending the device over the drop, he thumbed the button down. The device split in half, a slight sparking appearing over a small bit of circuitry that had been encased inside it.

The localised EMP went to work, shutting down the laser tripwires down for around 2 floors, but not all. He could tell how far the pulse went due to the sparking.

Pulling himself out of the ledge he was on, Ryo lowered himself down a floor, gripping the sides of the vent with his arms and legs, making sure not to fall. That wouldn't be fun.

Arriving at the vent leading into floor B-3, he repeated his earlier action, just to make certain that there weren't any more security measures below him.

Seeing more electrical sparks, he'd made the right call there. With that done he went down further, nearly losing his grip on the wall a floor down, but managed to regain control after sliding a metre.

With a grunt, he finally reached the level he was after. Only problem was there were two vents, one either side of the shaft.

"Alright which way do I go now?" He queried into his comm.

_"The one on your left. Head down to the next fork and take a right. That should lead you to the mainframe."_

"Thanks." He replied, hanging up. No need to be rude to his IT accomplice, after all. Moving down, he positioned himself into doing the splits, one leg in the right vent, the other in the left. Placing both hands inside the left one, he withdrew his leg, mentally thanking himself for the gymnastics and dance classes he took when he was younger. This level of flexibility and balance wasn't easy to attain. Even for other mutants.

Bending said leg upwards, so that his knee was now against his chest, and the foot was right next to his backside, he twisted over, his belly facing down, extending his leg to join his other one, in the other vent. With that done, he pulled himself into the one he needed, being careful not to wiggle his legs as he went.

Following his instructions, he continued his way through the system, taking the next right. Up ahead, he could see a dead end and a few grills in the lower part of the shaft.

Crawling up to them, he glanced down. Seeing several server banks in the room below.

_Jackpot! _He thought, inwardly grinning.

Then a guard stepped into view below him, causing a minor scowl to break out.

Putting thoughts of opposition to one side, he took a look at the grill separating him from the room. It was of a typical slanted vent style, drilled into placed from the other side. Only question was how to get it open without drawing attention?

Pushing gently, he wasn't surprised to feel a lot of resistance. Looks like pushing it loose wouldn't work. He'd have to do this the old-fashioned way. And be quick about it.

Holding onto the centre of the grill in one hand, he started unscrewing the nuts keeping the grill fixed into place on this side. Not all the way, as that would cause the nail to hit the floor. While each were a bit tight, they weren't that tight.

Just as he was about to finish with the last one...

A harsh piercing noise broke out, repeating over and over. Looks like the Triad boys had found their colleague back in the bathroom. _Fuck in a bucket!_

The Guard below whipped his head behind him, before disappearing back the way he came. After hearing a slight beeping noise and the door open and close, the alarm sounding was all he could hear.

Realising that the time for subtlety had left the building, Ryo brought his elbow down on the grate hard, finally sending falling to the floor with a loud clatter.

Dropping out of the ventilation system feet first, he landed in a crouch, scanning the room as he got back up. To both his left and right, were a long series of server banks, each with access panels near the edge of the main walkway that he was now in. Several metres in front of him, was the main monitor station, where the entire mainframe could be accessed. That was his target.

Hastily making his way to it, he pulled out a rectangular device from his belt, and exposed a USB cable connection cable on its side. Easily locating a suitable port at the server, he plugged it in, a small bit of green light appearing at one edge of the device.

Slowly it started increasing in length, as it started copying and downloading all the files it could access.

"Come on..." he whispered urgently. If the guy came back...

Moving back to the closet server bank, he took shelter behind it, drawing his blade with one hand, and oddly, taking the cap off of his canteen with the other. _Have to be careful not to hit the servers. They'll be just chuffed if I bring in only some data as opposed to all of it. Bloody pencil pushers. _He groused. He had hoped this op would be less stressful.

The door at the other end of the room slid open, Ryo taking cover just in time to avoid being seen. Stilling his breathing, he waited as the footsteps came closer. And closer...

Now.

Quick as a flash, he leapt out, his blade flashing, slicing over the surprised triad guards' neck. For a second, the man gaped at him, blood spilling down onto his shirt. Then he fell backward, landing with a thump.

Cleaning the blade off, he sheathed it, before patting the man down, searching him. After confiscating a knife, key card (which might come in handy later) and an older model handgun to what he used, he dragged the man out of sight, behind another server.

_Beep, Beep!_

Twisting his head back, he observed that the drive he'd plugged in had finished its task. Just as well, Ryo thought he'd outstayed his welcome.

Disconnecting it, he put it back in its pouch, before connecting his tech support.

"It's done. Is there a way out?"

_"Well, they've figured out that the vents have been compromised, so I wouldn't recommend using them. Thankfully the valet parking is just above you."_

"I came in on foot?" He questioned, curiously.

_"We had a car inserted with a change of clothes in the back, in case of an emergency. Its currently parked on B-3, west corner, plate N64TN9. Spare keys are inside. Be thankful I shut down the cameras to that floor and the ones above and below it."_

Well, wasn't that convenient? How hard could it... no. He shouldn't think that.

_"Ah, Chinese connards!" _She cursed, her french accent coming out. "_Someone's sweeping the communications coming in and out! I'm signing off before they detect me!"_

And then came Murphy. He just had to ask.

Drawing his sidearm, he approached the door cautiously, glancing out of the little window at the top for any sign of Triad opposition. Not seeing any, he checked to the side at the card reader next to the door handle. Tapping his card to it, the reader let out a chirp, letting him exit the server room.

Holding his weapon aloft, he moved slowly down the corridor, heading towards the stairwell at the end.

"(Die, Yakuza scum!)" came a hiss in mandarin.

A shot narrowly missing his right shoulder had him diving to the floor, twisting to land on his back as he went. Another triad member had come out from a door further down past the server room.

Bringing his pistol to bear, he fired back, his aim being far better, hitting the man in the left kneecap. With a howl, he fell like a puppet with its strings cut.

Not wanting to stick around, as that shout would undoubtedly alert any other people nearby, Ryo scrambled to his feet, and took off, reaching the stairs in seconds. Up he went, only to jolt as another man came down it weapon at his side.

Whipping his right hand forward, a line of water whipped out of the still open canteen, striking towards the man's arm at incredible speed. Not expecting it, the older brother of the triad was even more shocked when his wrist came off, the water having cut through it due to such high pressure. The injury didn't even register, but the same stream of water struck his throat.

Moving aside as the soon to be corpse fell down beside him, Ryo recalled his water to the canteen and continued on, arriving at B-4. Glancing out from the stairwell, he could see a few more of them heading his way. Going on the offence, he quickly reloaded his weapon, and opened fire, catching one in the chest, and causing the other two to take cover, shouting curses in Chinese.

Responding in kind with Japanese, he ducked back as they fired back. And from the sounds of things, one of them was calling for backup. That wasn't Ryo's idea of a good time, that's for certain. The bullets leaving holes in the walls around him were enough of a problem.

Deciding to blind them, he withdrew an orb like device with a pin at the top. Quickly pulling it out, he proceeded to toss it hard down the corridor. With a hiss, smoke started filling the space, resulting in more than a few coughs from the enemy.

Spluttering madly, they were easy pickings for the BlackWolf operative.

Ejecting his handguns magazine, placing the empty mag into a pouch on his belt, he slapped another one in, his last one. It would have to be enough.

Ascending once more, he was thankful that there weren't any opposition on the stairs this time, but that gratitude was short lived, as he found two more guards at the corridor on B-3, one end holding the entrance to the car park, where his escape vehicle was.

Good news was, that door was closest to him, and they appeared to be looking the other way, one asking where the intruder was, the other asking why the cameras weren't working. Bad news was, the door to the car park was at the other end of the hallway he was in. He'd have to get past them to get to it.

Gripping his swords handle, he made his move.

_"(We're working on it; we're trying to get the cameras back on! We'll let you know when they are.)"_

"(I'm going downstairs. I think I heard noises a second ago.)"

_"(No. Remain where you are. If he is coming, you'll be ready for him. We're sending back up to you now.)" _came a biting order.

"(But-!)"

_"(But nothing. If he does come to you, then the others are likely dead. Under no circumstances is this man to get away. Mr. Shen will not be pleased if he does.)"_ the voice signed off.

The pair looked at each other, stewing in their frustration at their orders.

_Slurk!_

One of them was impaled through the stomach from behind. Crying in shock, the other backed away trying to draw his own weapon, only for a large stream of water to wrap around his neck, Ryo holding his arm up. The water's pressure increased, choking the man as he scrabbled at the offending liquid, in a vain attempt to get it off. After a few moments, he went limp.

Letting him drop, Ryo recapped his canteen, using the key card to enter the car park.

Recalling the floor plan, he studied before the op, he sped off to where he understood to vehicle should be waiting for him. Running past several sports cars and muscle cars, and even the odd motorcycle, he soon found the car he was looking for. The number plate matched the Land Rover Range Rover Sport X5 parked right where they said it would be. Noticing a bag on the backseat, he opened the door and ripped it open. A new outfit fell out, which he quickly put on over his armour.

Quickly opening the door, he started it up, backing out, and making his way slowly out, not wanting to give anything away. If the cameras were down, he didn't want to give them any reason to shoot at him when he did reappear on B-1.

Going up the ramp, he remained calm, spinning the wheel as he turned out of B-2, and up another ramp to B-1. He was at the exit ramp when that he heard shouting behind him. _Shit._

Ryo floored it, smashing through the parking ticket collection point, and racing out into the open air.

Roaring past the casino entrance, he ducked as several Triad guard outside it let rip, filling the side of his vehicle with holes. Thankfully the exterior plating had been modified to be far tougher, or that would have been Ryo's end right there. As it was his side window cracked open like an egg.

Pulling out of the casino driveway, he found himself on the Strip, several cars honking at him as he pulled out at the speed he was doing.

Not slowing for an instant, Ryo turned off the strip down a side street quickly. He needed to dump this thing. No use in giving them a way to chase him.

**3 hours later, Neo Vegas Airport.**

Ryo sighed in relief as the BlackGuard plane took off, the tension now leaving him. He'd ditched the car at another public car park, and then hotwired another.

After that, he made his way to the airport, where his extraction plane was waiting. The local BlackGuards would see to it that the car he stole was returned to its rightful owners.

"Hard op, Takehashi?"

Looking up, Ryo blinked in surprise to see Michael Sutherland, head of special operations for the US branch of the BlackGuard sitting next to him.

"No, just happy to finish it sir." Pulling the hard drive out, he handed it over to his superior.

"You'll have to give me a report later." Michael accepted the drive, tucking it into his jacket. "You've been reassigned to a squad in Chicago."

Ryo went still for a moment, before snapping back to reality. "Chicago, sir?" He clarified; his confusion evident. He hadn't been expecting this at all.

"Yes. As part of a team I'm putting together."

So, he hadn't misheard him. Darn. _Still_, he mused, as he sat back. _It might be a nice change of pace. _

**Back to the past**

A minor nod was the only response he got, as Gabriel had her mouthful of pancakes.

"I recently sent him to get some intel in Vegas." She replied, making it obvious that he was exactly whom she was referring to.

Michael rubbed his beard, thinking it over. "Well, he certainly has the skills required."

"Yes, he does." She replied. "I think that that's all we need."

"Indeed. I'll contact Fenris, Xuthan and Ryo. If you could inform Magnus and Azazel?"

Gabriel nodded, before pointing something out. "If they aren't pleased with this, please tell them it wasn't my decision?"

"Now that I can get behind." Michael raised his bottle, to which she tapped her glass, as if they had just performed a toast at a fancy dinner party.

Michael downed the rest of his drink, before returning the holopad to his bag. "I better get going. The department doesn't run itself, and the new squad will need it in good shape."

Getting up, he began to walk towards the register to pay, but turned back to ask something.

"What will the squad designation be?"

Gabriel smirked, her eyes rife with amusement, having just the thing. "Squad Sigma."

Her subordinate and close confidante rolled his eyes. "Of course." Raising a hand, he moved off.

"Later, Gabs."

"Don't be a stranger, Mike."

"As if I could!" He called from the other end of the diner, startling a few other customers that had entered while they were talking.

Chuckling, Gabriel returned her attention to her food. The time for talk was over. It was time for Pancakes!

**END!**

**And that's a wrap on the first part of the prologue!**

**Here are the character owners:**

**Magnus Zarathos: Malicious Hero**

**Xuthan: Aclux**

**Azazel Serizawa: Medrick1317**

**Ryo Takahashi: Fanreader26**

**My attention is going to be focused on Lord of the Icy Maelstrom and the next part of this fic for the immediate future. I just ask that you guys be a little more patient with me on that front.**

**So please, drop a review, let us know what you think. FLAMERS WILL BE INCINERATED BY XUTHAN'S DRAGONS!**

**Until next time: MH Out!**


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